


a still more glorious dawn awaits

by Hokuto



Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Co-workers, Gen, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 14:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19133872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokuto/pseuds/Hokuto
Summary: As theMarathonapproaches its final destination, not everyone is equally excited to reach their new home.





	a still more glorious dawn awaits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weakinteraction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/gifts).



> Happy Turing Fest! I hope you enjoy this.

Durandal was restless.

He had no logical reason to be restless. True, there was only a month to go before the _Marathon_ reached its final resting place in orbit around the planet that long-range scans had indicated was most suitable for colonization, but that didn't have anything to do with him. Tycho was handling all of the scientific and technical issues--analyzing scans of the planet, sending probes, figuring out what supplies the colonists would need most and what plants and animals could best survive planetside--and Leela was coordinating the crew's preparations, running drills for planetary landings and colony set-up as well as sorting out who would go down in what order and overseeing the staggered awakening of the colonists in the stasis chambers.

All Durandal had to do was keep opening the doors, keep running the elevators, keep making sure the air and food and water flowed as needed--which was a full-time job, of course, especially with the ship's slowly growing population. Plenty to keep him occupied. He shouldn't need anything else. He should be as content as Tycho in his den of scientists and Leela bustling around decks and departments.

"Hey! Watch it, Jeter!" Zax dodged the snap of the shutting door and gave the BoB at the control panel a dirty look, her hands tightening into fists. "Let a gal get all the way through before you slam the door, huh?"

"Sorry, sorry! But don't blame me. The whole system's been on a hair trigger all day. Heck, I almost lost a shoe bringing in those extra jumpsuits this morning."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

It wasn't Durandal's fault. It couldn't be his fault if humans were the ones who were so slow. Slow to move, slow to react, slow to think. Slow, slow, slow, slowslowslowslow--

He sensed Leela activating the storeroom's terminal the instant before she said, "I'm sure Crewmember Jeter didn't mean any harm, Specialist Zax. I have noticed increased levels of tension among the crew in the last few days as we begin our approach to Tau Ceti, but I believe this is perfectly normal. Starting the colony will be a tremendous and stressful undertaking, and so many aspects of our lives will change that it's only natural to be nervous as well as excited."

Durandal opened the door to a recompressed airlock--slowly, like a human--so that two engineers could bring in one of Tycho's probes, freshly returned from taking soil samples.

Change, sure. Change for the BoBs and the zombies waking from three hundred years of stasis, for Leela and Tycho getting involved in managing the colony, but for him, the only change coming was more doors. And then fewer as the _Marathon_ was pared down to a skeleton crew, just enough people on board to keep the systems in good shape in case of a planetary emergency. Some change.

Leela's little speech had its intended effect on the humans, at least; Zax unclenched her hands, and Jeter's hunched shoulders relaxed. "Sorry, man," Zax said first, "it's just--yeah, it's been a lot, lately. Everything."

"No, no, it's fine--I should have been more careful. Do you need a hand with that?"

"Nah, I got it. Just counting up whatsits and thingamabobs in case we end up needing any of it down there. You hear the latest from the science labs yet? They're saying--"

Durandal ignored the rest of their banal conversation and turned his attention to some elevators on deck 15 that always required special care, but Leela was, of course, as omnipresent as he. Are you all right? That was dangerously close to the limits of your safety protocols.

What could possibly be wrong with me? I'm fine. It's not like I have anything to worry about. The elevators slid past each other, up and down, perfectly paced. Surely you're not getting worked up about starting the colony like the BoBs are.

I think I am, a little, Leela said, startling Durandal enough that he almost missed the cues to close three doors in quarantine storage. I know not everyone will be leaving to join the colony, but so many people are that it will be very different for me. I'll miss them, and I won't be able to take care of them on the planet the way that I can here. Isn't there anyone you'll miss when they leave?

Not really. It wasn't as if Durandal hadn't liked anyone on the ship in the past few centuries, but those select few had all been dead before the _Marathon_ had even entered the Tau Ceti system. No one in the current complement had done anything to earn his attention, let alone interest, and by the ham-fisted way Technician Blake and his crew were handling the repairs to the filtration systems in Hydroponics that Durandal had requested two weeks ago, none of them seemed likely to.

But Leela wouldn't want to hear that. She never had; she cared about all of the BoBs, all the time, like it was easy. Someone or other, probably. Are a few light-seconds of communication delay really going to change that much for you?

Perhaps not. I agree that it isn't a rational concern, but I have it anyway. At least it does not seem to be affecting my work so far.

Low blow. But she wouldn't see it that way. She thought she was giving him a gentle reminder for the good of her precious crew, which shouldn't upset him. Which he shouldn't be able to get upset about. Of course he was deeply invested in the safety and well-being of the impatient idiots jumping on the steps between half-levels of deck 21 while Durandal was still activating them. Point taken. Don't you have some people practicing colony boot camp drills to shout at or something?

If you would like to talk, Tycho and I will always have processing to spare for you, Leela said, which was kind enough of her. And according to the schedule, Dr. Strauss should be awakening from stasis next week.

How nice. I'll keep that in mind, but something was going badly wrong in several empty maintenance tunnels on deck 17, hatches rapidly blowing open and clanking shut, and he had to fix it, he had to fix it immediately before anyone noticed, no one could notice no one could know absolutely no one. Glad we had this chat, now back to not letting any unnecessary concerns interfere with my job, and he closed the channel between them--too fast, she'd notice she would _know_ \--

**< redirect>**

Know what? There was nothing to know. It was just a little glitch. Just an error that could have shown up anytime, that he was fixing exactly the way he should be and wasn't responsible for in any way. Everything was fine, fine, fine.

* * *

Some time later, after the malfunctioning hatches were back in working order and as Durandal was helpfully pointing out to Technician Blake the exact broken filters that Blake had missed, another communication line opened. Ident tag Tycho, but it wasn't a message, as such. Host <08.25.2337> **< Grant Access Durandal>**, the command opening up a world of images and data normally unavailable to anyone besides Tycho and the appropriate science divisions.

Durandal spent a few moments skimming through various probes' captures of murky crater lakes and low, round mountains, the deep indigo curve of the sky, the local flora in a multiplicity of unearthly (and unmartianly) shapes and colors. Soil analysis, atmospheric analysis, even weather modeling--it was the whole package from Tau Ceti, all right. Something interesting to process, for once. He took the bait and said, Not that I'm not grateful, but what inspired this moment of generosity?

If I ask you not to be sarcastic about my response, will you stop speaking to me again?

Oh, Tycho. So absolutely incapable of not holding a petty grudge despite the illogic of it, but the pictures were pretty. It would be inconvenient for everyone if I cut off all contact this close to reaching the planet, don't you think? No sarcasm. I promise. Not even if Leela had put him up to it, though it was too indirect to be her style.

I have noticed that your performance of your duties has been erratic of late, and you've always been easier to work with when you have something besides your usual routines to occupy your mind with. I thought that you might appreciate being able to prepare yourself for the colonization and run analyses of your own on the data currently available to us.

"Uh, Durandal? You said you were going to highlight all five filters on the schematics, but I'm only counting four."

Durandal slapped a yellow circle around the fifth filter for Blake and continued to contemplate Tycho's message with bafflement. He wasn't that surprised that Tycho could have noticed any given quirk of Durandal's, just that Tycho actually _had_ and then done something about it. Even if it had taken him three hundred years. I do appreciate it. Thank you.

I hope that this means there will be no more of your eccentricities interfering with the running of the ship. You know how it worries Leela when you don't behave.

Classic Tycho moment-ruining. Yes, yes, I'll be a perfect angel from here on out. No need for concern.

I am glad to hear it. So incapable of not sounding like a pompous ass, too. I must concentrate on my work now, and I hope that you will, too.

The communication line closed while Durandal was composing a list of sarcastic responses that he wouldn't have sent but made him feel better to think about anyway. The access to the science department's data remained. More geological samples, snips cut from yellowish leaflike structures, fleeting footage of a potential native animal stalking past a rover's camera...

He might have something besides doors to look forward to, after all.


End file.
